Above the housetops it was different. Elegant, a little scornful, she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him steadily in the eyes. Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity. ” Her urge to drink deeply of his blood was growing insane, ignited by what he had already donated. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. We can be friends again.
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